


Individual Sport

by allihearisradiogaga



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Nostalgia, Pre-Series, Selfies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9128071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allihearisradiogaga/pseuds/allihearisradiogaga
Summary: JJ feels left out, and left behind.  Leo offers a helping hand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I can't be the only one who ships this, right? Anyway, this is super cute (I hope), and it's mainly about how JJ is perfect and needs to be protected always.
> 
> Also Leo is perfect as well.

JJ watched as the small group of skaters walked away.  They were off to the park, or a restaurant, or something like that.  He had been left behind.  Again.  He sighed and turned to make another lap around the rink.

He could feel the slight friction between the rough, unzamboni'd ice and his skates.  They'd been at it, on-and-off, all day, and there were tiny cross hatches of divots across the ice.  It was like a rough burlap sack, a tough feeling.  JJ liked it.  It reminded him of his days when he was younger, when he played hockey.

He was the star of his little league hockey team.  They were successful, that year, mainly because of JJ'S offensive drives.  He had a certain lightfootedness on the ice that the other players didn't, which meant that he could duck and dive past them as they lunged at him.  They almost made it to the championship that year, but even with a perfect offense, that didn't mean they could stop any of the goals that came toward them on defense.

That had been his last season of hockey.  His parents pointed out that he'd probably do better in an individual sport, and that he would be doing figure skating instead.  That was fine with him.  As long as he was on the ice, as long as he had the spotlight on him, he was happy to do it.

But he did miss his team.  Even though they weren't on his level of playing, even though they never scored as many goals or got as many shout-outs in the local paper, they were his friends, and he like to play with them.  Figure skating was fun, and he liked the attention he drew from the audience, but he felt, sometimes, lonely.

He rounded the rink again, pushed himself forward a bit, and pushed off into the air, a single spin, and landing in a fluid motion.  He continued around the rink, absentmindedly.

It didn't bother him too much, but he did like it when he was able to go to the training camps with other skaters.  When he met the others in Detroit, he had a great time learning and practicing alongside the others.  It reminded him of his days playing hockey, the camaraderie he had missed.

He came around the corner, pushed forward out of it, and leapt into a double spin before touching down and continuing on down the rink.  It wasn't anyone's fault that he got left behind, and he knew that.  No one was intentionally leaving him out... were they?

There wasn't any reason for them to leave him behind.  He was friendly, he didn't gloat TOO much, and he did try to be a part of what they were doing.  He tried to make himself a part of the gang, a part of what was going on.

He figured, however, that when he checked the Instagram feed later, there'd be a selfie with a good chunk of the other skaters, minus him.  He felt his eyes tighten against tears he wouldn't let to the surface of his eyes and he pushed himself off of the ice for another spin.  However, he was too lost in his own thoughts to notice where he was in the rink exactly, miscalculated, and barely had touched down on the ice before he slammed into the sideboard.  He slumped down onto the ice for a moment before he started to pull himself up, his head slightly dizzy from the impact.

_Talk about throwback to my hockey days, eh?_  he thought as he got to his feet.  He held onto the ledge where the glass met the sidewall for a moment as he got his bearings again.  It was then that he heard the sound of skates gliding toward him over the rough ice.  He found it hard to look up, takin a deep breath in to hold in any residual negative feelings he might actually show.

When he looked up, his eyes were met by the brown eyes of a smaller boy who seemed to be rushing over to him in duplicate.  The two forms of Leo de la Iglesia swam over one another for a moment before solidifying into a singular figure.

“Oh, hi,” he said, trying to make himself seem as casual as he could—that is, as if he hadn’t just collided with the wall in one of the least graceful ways possible.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”  Leo stopped by bracing one arm against the wall next to JJ, and his other hand went to his face.  JJ began to blush at the caress until he realized he had just whacked his head against the wall, and was likely now sporting a large egg on his forehead.

“I—”  He reconsidered, and looked down before meeting Leo’s eyes again.  “I’m fine.”  Leo hesitated a moment before withdrawing his hand.  “Thanks.”

“Oh!  You’re welcome, I just saw you…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said JJ, waving him back.  Leo let himself slide backward a few feet on the ice, and JJ pushed off from the wall, turning away.  “I’m sorry, but it’d be better if you didn’t see anything.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Jean.”

JJ stopped and rotated on one skate back to face the other boy.  “Jean?”

Leo’s eyebrows raised, and some color came to his cheeks.  “Sorry, I figured…”  He shook his head, his hair whipping with it as he did.  “Sorry, JJ.”

“No, no, it’s just…”  He trailed off, and pushed off once to glide over to be closer to Leo.  He stopped a few feet away.  “It’s weird.  Different.”

Leo cocked his head to the side.  “You’ve got hundreds of people calling your name at each competition.”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” said JJ.  He grinned.  “That’s my—”  He whipped his hands into his signature move.  “— _JJ Style_!”

Leo was laughing.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Okay, don’t get mad,” he said, still giggling a little.  JJ put his hands on his hips.  “But first, that egg on your forehead is just getting bigger and bigger.  I’m sure it really hurts.  I feel a little bad for laughing _but_ it looks ridiculous.”

JJ crossed his arms.  Leo held up his hands as he continued, his smile softening his explanation.

“And second, your whole branding is so cute.  It’s fun.”

“I wouldn’t call it _cute…_ ”

“Yeah, well I would,” said Leo.  He grinned, and he whipped his hands around just like JJ did when he posed for the camera.  JJ would have almost been impressed by the accuracy with which Leo had performed the move, except when he settled into what was supposed to be his hands forming the two Js, they were backward.

“Your Js are backward,” said JJ.

“They’re not Js,” said Leo, raising one eyebrow.  “They’re Ls.”

JJ found a smile coming to his own face now.  “You only have one L.”

“It’s “de _La_ Iglesia,’” said Leo.  He dropped his hands from the pose.  “Not all of us have the same level of branding.”

“Maybe not,” said JJ, the smile settling into his face.

Leo pushed off and made a slow circle before looking past JJ at something just outside the rink.  JJ turned and followed his gaze.  “Oh, man,” said Leo, “I’ve got to go.  My ride was getting me at seven-thirty.”  The clock read 7:39.

“Yeah,” said JJ.  “Um, thanks.”

“No problemo,” said Leo, pushing off toward the gate into the rink.  About halfway there, he hockey stopped and turned back to JJ.  “Wait!” he called, and JJ pushed off toward him.  Leo met him halfway.  “Let’s take a picture.  With the hand symbols.”

“What?” asked JJ.

“It’ll be cool.  Wait.”  Leo shoved his hand down into his pocket and fished out his cell phone, shelled by a case with an old-fashioned sheriff’s badge in the center of the back.  He swiped open the camera app and skated right up close to JJ, bumping into his shoulder as he did.

Leo enthusiastically held up his L with the hand not holding the phone.  After a moment of hesitation, JJ followed suit with his signature gesture and smile.  “Hold it…” muttered Leo as he pressed the side of his phone screen, missing the button, and had to try again.  The screen flashed briefly to indicate that the picture had been taken.

“Aw, man, it looks _sweet_!” said Leo.  He held out the phone for JJ to see, but JJ barely got a glance at it before Leo locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.  “Sorry, but I’ve got to motor.  I’m already late.”  He pushed off, gliding away from JJ.  “I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”  He waved back as he went, not really waiting for a reply.

“Yeah!” said JJ, calling after him.  Then, more to himself than to Leo: “I’ll see you then.”

He turned toward the side of the rink again, and caught his reflection in the glass.  The lump on his forehead _was_ pretty unsightly.  He pushed off from the ice and, still feeling those ridges from the skate before, made his way around the rink one last time.  No jumps, no thoughts, no _anything_.  Just him and the ice.  The trip around the rink was over before he knew it.  He glided the last couple of yards to the gate to the rink.  He unlatched it, opened the door, and stepped off of the ice in one practiced motion.

He sat on the bench closest to the rink in the lobby and quickly and adeptly untied his skates, swapping them for the pair of sneakers he had stashed under the bench when he had first gone on the ice, more than three hours ago.  The lobby was empty save for the one girl working the rental counter, so he just crossed to the bathrooms without anyone stopping him to talk or ask about his face.

It was a good thing that no one _was_ there, because his face did not look good.  The greater part of the right side had swelled up like a balloon, and when he tenderly poked it, he winced in pain.  He didn’t feel anything too bad anywhere else, but it was one big, red, monster bruise.

He leaned against the bathroom sink and sighed.  He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser, folded it over a few times, and wetted it with cold water before laying it over the lump on his head.  He leaned back against the counter, remembering the injuries he’d faced during his hockey days—little things, just dings here and there, but things that were worth feeling.  Bruises from hits, swollen elbows, sore legs, that sort of thing.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up over his face, so that he could see the screen even when leaning back slightly for the cold paper towel to rest without falling.  He scrolled through Facebook for a moment before switching to Instagram.

He refreshed, and at the top of the page, he saw a new update.  From user delaiglesialeo, a selfie on the ice.  With him.

He stood up with an intensity that almost sent his cold paper towel flying off of his face and onto the bathroom floor.  He caught it with the hand not holding his phone and held it back onto his face, cringing a bit as he did.

The lump on his forehead was prominent in the picture, that was for sure, but Leo had been kind with the filter he’d put on there—it minimized the redness.  It instead highlighted both of their smiles, and the way they were making their matching gestures.  JJ couldn’t place the feeling—this picture had only been taken a few minutes before, but it already made him feel nostalgic.

He grinned, double-tapped the picture, and tossed the paper towel into the trash.  He quickly typed a comment, and grinned to himself as he left the bathroom to grab his skates.

> “ _That’s Leo style!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to hell b/c my name for this ship is the Great North American Twunk.


End file.
